


don't wanna hide this heart of mine

by pouthyucks



Series: golden gaytimes ; [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Australia, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, a lot of mentions of maccas runs lmao, also woojin is only mentioned, chris cries a Lot, he's kiwi uwu, i call chan chris, i still can't believe that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pouthyucks/pseuds/pouthyucks
Summary: chris doesn't like minho. he doesn't. he just can't stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. and how pretty his eyes are. and how much he likes it when minho looks at him.but he's not gay. he can't be.; title from kiss the boy by keiynan lonsdale





	don't wanna hide this heart of mine

chris doesn’t like minho, he really doesn’t. he just really likes it when minho looks at him, and when he smiles, and when they go for maccas runs at 3 in the morning and just drive around aimlessly until they’re too tired to function anymore and have to crash at one of their houses. he also just can’t help but notice the way the light always manages to hit minho  _ just perfectly _ no matter where they are, even under the mildly shitty fluorescent lights of their classrooms. but that’s normal. it has to be normal. chris absolutely  _ does not  _ like minho. because if he did, which he  _ doesn’t,  _ that would be weird. and chris isn’t weird, at least not in  _ that _ way. he can’t be.

  
  


“hey, chris, penny for your thoughts?”

 

speak of the devil.

 

“this is australia, minho, we haven’t used pennies since 1992,” chris states matter-of-factly. minho scoffs and sits next to him on the bench outside the science block.

 

“of course you know that,” minho says and laughs a little. a smile spreads across chris’s face without him even thinking about it. “but seriously, what’re you thinking about?” the smile fades for a second before chris shrugs and looks out into the distance.

 

“nothing much, just school shit. maths b is already killing me and we’ve been back for a week,” chris says. he feels minho’s eyes drifting over him, scrutinising his every expression, as he always had. minho sighs a little, just enough for chris to hear, which was likely intentional, knowing minho.

 

“i’m here if you wanna talk, you know that right?” minho asks, his hand on chris’s thigh and rubbing soft, comforting circles with his thumb. chris simply nods, tearing his eyes away from minho as best he can. chris feels his muscles tense and he gets this weird sick-but-not-really feeling in his stomach.

 

“these uniforms still suck shit, huh,” chris says, switching the topic as best he can.

 

“they do, i think i can maybe pull it off though, don’t ya think, chris?,” minho laughs, twisting his body and swinging his leg up on the bench, staring chris straight in the eyes and smirking. chris can hear his heart pounding directly in his ears and his face getting Hot, Itchy And Generally Uncomfortable. 

 

guess it didn’t work, then.

 

“i-i, uh, i-”

 

“lost for words?” minho asks, curling his lip and raising an eyebrow. he puts his leg back down over the other side of the bench so he’s facing chris head-on. “i’m only pulling your leg, don’t worry,” he says and chris chuckles awkwardly. 

 

“yeah, i know, i was too,” chris says and minho doesn’t have a chance to respond before the bell rings for form. 

“i’ll see you in english, have fun dealing with teschy, chris,” minho says and chris rolls his eyes.

 

“will do,” he says before minho walks away towards the other side of the school, waving and grinning at chris as he does. chris runs a hand through his hair before heading off around the corner to his classroom, unable to get minho’s fucking smirk out of his mind.

  
  


-

  
  


chris can’t shake the painfully hollow feeling in the pit of his chest. at first, he thinks he’s just hungry. he did skip breakfast this morning and that tends to not be the best idea in the world. but then his thoughts drift back to minho, fucking  _ minho _ , no matter how many times he tries to shake him out of his head. he taps his pen against his notebook, waiting for his legal teacher to change the slide he copied out five minutes ago, minho’s face clouding his vision and his voice being the song stuck in his head. the tapping gets faster and he’s pretty sure he’s going to break through the page. the slide finally changes and chris hastily copies down the next one. the words mean nothing; ‘liable’ has stopped sounding like it even exists. the only words that matter are minho’s name.

 

and that is fucking terrifying.

  
  


-

  
  


he doesn’t realise his hands are shaking until he feels the pads of minho’s fingers ghosting over his knuckles.

 

“chris? you okay?” minho asks, chris can feel his eyes drifting from his face to his hands and back up again. he feels his ears burn red and he swallows deeply, hopefully not enough for minho to take note, or at least for him not to bring it up. chris nods and minho’s thumb rubs over his skin.

 

chris tries to  _ just focus on minho, _ but he can’t drown them out. the words echo about his skull, bouncing around in his mind, taunting him, just as the boys sitting at the other side of the building where they sit do.

 

chris doesn’t know exactly why it hurts him so bad, so personally, except maybe on minho’s behalf, or on that of his morals. but the words they say hit him right in the chest. every single one. he hates it, he hates what they’re saying and he hates that it’s so painful.

 

“minho.”

 

“yeah?”

 

“can you, uh, explain this to me?” chris grabs his maths assignment out of his bag and holds it between them. minho nods, their eyes meeting, lingering on each other for just a second too long. minho grins and starts to explain to chris what the first question is asking of him, chris punctuating the end of every few sentences with affirmation sounds. chris wasn’t hearing the words, he didn’t need to, he finished the first two questions last night. but the fluidity of the way minho speaks, making the occasional joke and chris showing off his dimple every time, is enough to make the words fade away, at least just for a moment, a moment that feels like forever.

  
  


-

  
  


it’s a mystery as to how chris ended up on this side of youtube (or at least he’d like to think it is), but he’s here and there’s no getting out now that he’s in this deep.

 

this is the tenth coming out video chris has watched now.

 

the names are all blurred together by this point but every word rings familiar and clear in chris’s mind each time. he  _ hates _ that he relates to the things all these different people are saying, he can’t fucking stand it. it’s unnatural, weird, it’s not how he’s meant to be feeling. he doesn’t notice the tears until they start to make his vision bleary and he can’t make out the faces on his screen anymore. but he hears what they say, everything gets louder and louder and starts to echo until he’s shaking and crying and can’t feel his own body anymore. it’s like he’s standing just outside of himself, but he’s still attached just by a fingertip. but he clicks on the next one, and the next one, and the next one. he manages to reach for his phone on the pillow next to him and sees he has a text from none other than minho. 

 

_ ‘hey chris!! wanna go to maccas tonight?? i’ll shout you a frozen coke’ _

 

chris laughs through the choked sobs, it’s highly likely that he sounds like a dying seal, and his fingers fumble their way to minho’s contact. 

  
  


“hello?”

 

“m-minho, i, uh, i think i’m having a panic attack or- or something and i- uh-”

 

“don’t go anywhere, i’ll get mum to drive me to yours straight away,” minho interrupts him and chris nods, even though he’s fully aware that minho can’t see him. “just breathe, yeah? in for three, hold for three, out for five, remember?”

 

“i-i remember,” chris replied. minho replies with a couple of ‘good’s and counts up and down over the phone to chris until he hears his bedroom door open. chris slams his laptop closed and minho launches himself onto chris, his arms tightly around him and carding through chris’s curls with one of his hands.

 

they stay like this for a bit, chris hears minho’s mum drive off at some point but neither of them move. chris’s arms find their way around minho’s waist and he lets himself cry into the younger boy’s chest. minho tells him everything’s okay, even though chris would insist that  _ no, it isn’t _ , if he could talk coherently through his sobbing. he’s pretty sure he apologises a few times, everything feels so hazy that he can’t tell and his body doesn’t feel like his own. chris just keeps babbling quietly, he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, and he hopes to god it isn’t anything incriminating. minho just lets him talk and cry until his chest stops heaving so much and his sobbing eases enough for chris to be able to formulate real sentences again. minho cradles chris’s cheek and lifts his face up so he can look at him. chris feels minho’s thumb wipe his tears away with his other hand and chris tries not to meet his gaze. minho asks him what’s wrong and chris just shakes his head. minho seems to think for a second, furrowing his brows and his eyes flit around the room, but always coming back to chris. he feels himself melt under minho’s gaze, utterly falling into him. as soon as a new tear falls, minho wipes it away. minho counts slowly like he did on the phone, his voice low and soft and chris could listen to him forever. 

 

“minho?”

 

“yeah?” minho’s hand returns to chris’s hair and chris resists the urge to let his eyes flutter shut.

 

“i’ll take a raincheck on that maccas run,” chris says and they both laugh. 

 

“do you want me to to leave, then?” minho asks, moving his hand away from chris’s cheek. 

 

“no,” chris says, a bit too loudly, as he takes it and places it back where it was. “please stay,” chris says, almost in a whisper, ignoring the way his stomach swoops when minho smiles at him with such  _ soft _ eyes as he nods.

 

“okay, i’ll stay.”

 

“thank you,” chris breathes. minho moves away from him, chris immediately misses the warmth and familiarity of minho. he sits up against chris’s headboard and motions for the older boy to go over to him. chris complies and minho pulls him close, a hand lazily tracing up and down chris’s spine and and the other one playing with his hair. 

 

“i’m sorry,” chris says quietly into minho’s chest, his words muffled.

 

“what for?” minho asks.

 

“for being annoying and making you stay here…” chris replies.

“you’re not annoying,” minho says, his voice sounds like pure honey and chris blushes even more, if that’s possible. “and i’m glad you want me to stay. i don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, and you don’t have to tell me what it is if you don’t want to, but i’m here for you, chris. i will be no matter what,” he continues and chris feels the tears start again. “do you want to talk about what happened?” he asks and chris remembers why minho is here in the first place and shakes his head.

 

“maybe tomorrow.”

 

“alright, that’s okay, you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable,” minho replies and chris assures him that he knows. they go back to the peaceful quiet, minho occasionally comforting chris when his breath hitches. 

  
  


-

  
  


chris likes the feeling of minho’s arms around him way too much when he wakes up. he finds himself wishing that they could always be like this; their legs tangled together, minho’s arms around his waist, chris’s around minho’s neck and minho’s chin resting comfortably on the top of chris’s head. it feels natural. like paint connecting with canvas. 

 

but chris  _ absolutely does not like minho _ . 

 

he doesn’t, he can’t. he just feels closer to him after what happened last night.

 

that’s it. nothing more.

 

“morning, chris,” minho says, his voice sleepy and deeper than chris had heard before. chris likes it  _ way too much _ . 

 

“good morning,” he replies, avoiding the younger boy’s eyes as best he can until minho cradles chris’s face again and minho just looks at him carefully but softly.

 

“how did you sleep?”

 

“well, i guess,” he says, “it was easier with you here…” he adds quietly, mentally slapping himself for even  _ thinking  _ it. minho doesn’t seem to have heard it, and if he did, then chris is grateful that he didn’t mention it. 

 

they talk for a bit, not changing their position, apart from chris somehow ending up with his hand interlocked with minho’s. chris tries to ignore the way his heart pounds faster and faster with every second that minho looks at him.

  
  


-

  
  


this has happened before.

 

chris realises it when he looks at minho from across their booth at the maccas only ten minutes away from chris’s house (minho  _ did _ pull through on his offer to shout chris a frozen coke). minho’s kind eyes, the occasional reassuring brief hand hold under the table, the feeling in the pit of chris’s stomach, the way he notices minho’s full lips that are pursed so cutely as he looks at chris and the fact that he just  _ can’t look away from them.  _

 

he’s felt this.

  
  


_ they were in prep, the first day of the rest of chris’s academic life. his name was woojin. _

 

 _he remembers walking up to him, trying not to trip over the boundaries that surrounded the playground, still getting used to the bark that would keep finding its way in everyone’s shoes no matter what you did. woojin had claimed the last of the tiny, firetruck red tricycles that were kept in the shed with the hula hoops and the footy equipment. they talked for a bit, woojin’s family had only recently moved to australia from new zealand and he was still adjusting to the searing heat and crippling queensland humidity._ _chris giggled at him a little and woojin huffed. chris asked if he could have a go on the tricycle when woojin was done, like he’d originally been intending, and woojin nodded._

 

_ things continued like that for a few days before chris decided that he wanted to officially be woojin’s friend. he’d ask to stand next to him in line when their class went to their music and pe lessons (mostly because they had to hold hands so no one would wander off, but chris would never admit that), he’d sit next to him during reading time, making sure they were somehow touching, volunteering to be the mum whenever woojin was the dad when they were playing in home corner. and woojin didn’t seem to mind. ever since then, he’d always give his popper to chris without needing to trade anything for it, he’d buy chris a zooper dooper at the tuckshop every friday and he’d insist on chris not paying him back and woojin was always the first person chris would give a christmas card to at the end of every year. they’d sit together at every sports day and swimming carnival, they’d give each other pep talks at soccer tournaments in year 6, chris encouraged woojin to audition for the primary school talent show every single year and woojin got in each time and then got him to audition for the lead role in their year 7 musical - which woojin got too. they were there for each other through everything. _

 

_ chris also remembers the way his heart would pound right out of his chest when woojin hugged him after each talent show. he remembers that woojin would let him sleep in his bunk at their year 5 camp when he had nightmares and that he’d never be able to stop himself from blushing every time. he remembers how woojin would shout his encouragement to chris from the ground when they did high ropes in year 7 and that chris knew he’d be safe when he got down because woojin was there. _

 

_ chris remembers how badly it hurt when his heart broke when woojin told chris he was moving back to new zealand for high school. _

 

_ chris remembers all of it. crystal clear. _

 

_ he had a crush on woojin for eight years and he didn’t even realise it. _

  
  


he understands now, he understands why he hated his first kiss, why he never felt bad every time he got broken up with, why he could never tell any of his exes that he loved them.

 

he wishes he never realised.

  
  


“chris?” minho’s voice shatters chris’s thoughts. he reaches out for chris’s hand again and he just lets it happen. “are you alright?” chris simply shakes his head and minho seems to think for a moment. 

 

he stands and pulls chris up, taking his frozen coke in one hand and linking his fingers with chris’s with the other. chris lets minho walk him out and put him in the passenger seat of his own car. 

 

“do you wanna talk about it?” minho asks, gesturing for chris to give him the car keys, which he does without even thinking. he stares blankly out the front windscreen, shaking his head slowly, barely enough for minho to notice. but he does. he always notices. he always has. 

 

and then it hits chris and the tears start again.

 

“chris, please don’t cry,” minho says, pulling chris close to his chest and it just gets worse and worse. his hands feel weird and tingly, like they aren’t attached to him anymore. he feels sick and like he’s about to collapse and not be able to get up again. 

 

but he only lets a few tears fall. he can’t do this to minho again.

 

“i’m okay,” chris whispers into minho’s chest. he sits up, still slumped forwards a little, but it’s better than before. “i’m done now. i’m fine,” he reaffirms and minho has a look in his eyes that is screaming at chris that he doesn’t believe him, and so he shouldn’t, but he doesn’t insist. they both know that that’ll just make everything worse.

 

so minho starts the car, and chris just looks out the window, zoning out until his eyes close and everything fades away into nothingness. 

 

 

-

  
  


chris’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as he feels minho’s eyes drift over to him. they stop at a red light and chris takes the opportunity to glance at the boy in the passenger seat. the streetlights just illuminate his face enough for chris to be able to make out his features in the dark. chris notices how perfectly his hair falls, framing his face just right, and he finds himself wanting to run his fingers through it. minho smiles softly, putting chris at ease just a little. at least until chris’s eyes dart to minho’s lips. they’re so pink and pillowy that chris can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like against his own. chris tears himself away just before the light turns green. he feels minho’s hand on his thigh, tracing circles to soothe him, but chris just tenses up more. he relaxes little by little until he eventually lets himself enjoy minho’s gentle touch.

 

after what chris plans to tell him, chris is pretty certain that minho isn’t going to be this close with him again.

  
  


they stop walking once they reach the end of the jetty. the only sound is that of the crashing waves. they sit on a bench facing the ocean. chris grips the cold metal tighter and tighter by the second and his knuckles start to go white.

 

“chris, chris,” minho says in an almost whisper, removing chris’s hands from the bench and placing them in his lap. “are you feeling okay? is this about what happened the other night?” chris just nods, looking up at the stars. minho slips  his hand in chris’s and squeezes.

 

“i… i need to tell you something,” chris says through shaky breaths. minho turns chris’s face so he can look at him, his hand lingering there and chris’s gazes wanders down to minho’s pretty lips again. minho doesn’t need to say a word; the way he looks at chris is enough for him to know that he can tell minho anything.

 

but chris knows that this isn’t just anything.

 

“i’ve been doing a lot of, um, thinking lately, and... “ chris begins, getting lost in minho’s eyes, picking up on his every expression and chris is more and more tempted to kiss him by the second. tears start to prick chris’s eyes and minho wraps his arms around his neck. 

 

“shh, shh,” minho soothes, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 

“no, no, i need to tell you. i need to tell  _ someone  _ before i lose my mind,” chris says, forcing himself to sit up and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper.

 

“okay,” minho says, his voice is low and quiet and chris lets his eyes meet minho’s. “take your time.”

 

everything gets louder as chris thinks of what to say. he hears his heart rate beat faster and faster and gets so ear-splitting that chris feels like he’s about to go deaf. he hears every step of the people walking on the street several hundreds of metres away, each bit of gravel crunch under the crawling rubber on the road, minho’s every breath leaves his ears ringing and every word flying through his mind gets louder and louder until- 

 

“i’m gay.”

 

chris feels like he hasn’t been allowed to breathe for years until this moment and he can’t get enough air in his lungs. all noise drains away and everything sounds like it’s playing on a shitty stereo in a different room. his vision goes hazy and everything blurs together.

 

everything except minho.

 

minho with his pretty smile and the warmth in his eyes. minho just hugs him, and chris hugs him back.

 

“that’s great, chris. that’s really, really great. i’m glad you trust me enough to tell me,” minho says, pulling away from the embrace. chris lets himself mirror minho’s happiness for a moment, the two of them filling the atmosphere with giddy laughter.

 

but there’s still a weight on chris’s back, a weight he’s terrified of lifting.

  
  
  


-

  
  


it’s been two months since that night at redcliffe. two months since chris told minho that he’s gay. but he doesn’t feel much better. he still has that aching in the pit of his stomach. he has this sense of longing but he isn’t entirely sure what it desires.

 

but he has an idea.

 

chris keeps himself up at night thinking and thinking and thinking as he watches his ceiling fan whirr obnoxiously loudly as it tries its best to keep chris relatively cool. he thinks about minho. about the day minho announced to their entire cohort that he’s gay. about the fact that he did that when he was only 13 while chris was still locked in his closet and refused to even unlock it. about how proud minho is of being gay. how he’s the out and proud icon of the school who scared year 7s and year 12s alike talk to when they’re struggling.

 

about how minho, proud, brave, confident minho, is far, far too good for terrified, self-hating chris.

 

there’s absolutely no way that the founder of the school’s queer safe space would be interested in the boy who threw himself in that closet and is just now looking for the key so he can open it.

  
  


-

  
  


chris can’t sleep. it’s a combination of the feeling of the wooden floor under his head through the thin air mattress and the anxiety constantly coursing through him. but he figures that if he pretends to sleep for long enough his brain will take the hint. he’s finally drifting off, his eyelids closing involuntarily, getting sleepier and sleepier by the second, until he hears minho start to talk from up on his bed.

 

“hey, chris, i know you’re asleep but… there’s some stuff i want to say that i don’t think i’d ever be able to tell you properly,” he says and chris feels his face heat up and his stomach drop.

 

“first of all, i’m so unbelievably fucking proud of you. i know how hard it is to come out under relatively normal circumstances. but i remember when you were telling me the other day about how much you repressed and hated who you are and i can’t even begin to imagine how shit you would’ve felt. but you’re still chris and you’re amazing and incredible and i’m so proud to be your best friend,” minho says and chris feels his eyes prick with tears as a smile forms on his lips. 

 

“and, uh, secondly, i’ve been like… super in love with you since we were 13,” minho chuckles and chris’s eyes shoot open. “you’re actually the main reason i figured out that i’m gay. i remember seeing you on the first day of grade 8 and thinking, ‘holy shit that guy is so pretty that i’m pretty sure he’s breaking the uniform policy for being distracting to the other students.’” chris stifles a laugh and he feels himself blush a deep red. he probably looks like a beetroot. “so yeah, i’m in gay love with you but i don’t know if i’m ever going to actually tell you… i don’t think you’d like me back in a million years and you probably don’t even want to date yet because you just came out and yeah. i just needed to tell you  _ somehow _ and i’ve been bottling this up for so long that i’ve been going fucking crazy.”

 

chris wants to get up and kiss minho so badly, every fibre of his being is telling him to confess everything. but he can’t. he can’t do it. his body won’t let him. he just lies there and cries quietly.

 

“you know, i wish you were awake so we can do that cheesy thing where you tell me that you heard me and that you love me and all that shit. but this is real life and you aren’t and you won’t. and that’s okay, i guess,” minho says and sighs. “i’m gonna stop talking now. goodnight, chris. i love you.”

 

chris hears minho roll over and his breath hitch.

 

“i love you too.”

  
  


-

  
  


it’s the last day of year 11. the last day before their lives really start. and chris still hasn’t talked to minho about The Thing. he’s tried to push it out of his mind but he can’t and he constantly hears minho saying  _ those words _ . but he can’t hasn’t been able to say them back. he’s been on the verge of saying them for weeks, they’re perpetually on the tip of his tongue, every time he sees minho, he can barely stop himself from kissing him.

 

but he never does.

  
  


they sit outside woolies. minho spent the money he would’ve used to catch the bus home if he wasn’t going to chris’s after school to buy them both iced coffee and lollies. the other kids from their school have mostly all gone home, with a few loitering outside stellarossa and a couple guys from their grade who work at woolies roll the trollies across the bitchumen, making them rattle and screech. the crows caw and chris can see a galah or two on the nearby powerlines. it’s about as peaceful as the brisbane suburbs can get. 

 

chris just looks at minho, taking in everything about him. 

 

and that’s when chris finally gives in.

 

“minho, i heard everything you said when you thought i was asleep at that sleepover and i wanted to tell you that i love you too so badly but i- i just couldn’t and i don’t know why and i’m so sorry that i didn’t say anything but i love you and you made me realise that i’m gay because i fell in love with you and you’re a boy and yeah,” chris says, blurting out every word that comes to his mind without a second thought. he doesn’t even look at minho while he says them. he can’t. he just stares at the gravel beneath his feet. he hears minho exhale.

 

“woah,” is all minho says. “i… i wasn’t expecting that.”

 

“i wasn’t either,” chris says, just loud enough for minho to hear.

 

“i’m glad you said it though.”

 

“i am too. i’ve been holding that in since term 3.”

 

“i’ve still got you beat.”

 

“you have.”

 

they laugh and drink their coffee and eat their snakes and dinosaurs, savouring their last day as year 11s. no one from the school is left in the carpark, just a few trolly boys and mums walking their kids to the doctor’s next door. they get up to walk home, chris pulling minho up and handing him his bag to sling over his shoulder. they start to walk away before minho turns chris around and cradles his cheek in his hand.

 

“chris?”

 

“yeah?”

 

“can i kiss you?”

 

“yeah.”

 

minho presses his lips to chris’s, his head tilted to the side just a little. chris lets himself smile into it, his arms around minho’s waist, minho deepening the kiss a bit. minho pulls away, he lets out a giddy laugh and chris does the same. they stand there for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. but then chris’s phone rings.

 

“shit, it’s mum,” he says and chuckles, taking minho’s hand as he answers it. they walk off together, swinging their linked hands back and forth. they smile at each other, not saying much.

 

and the weight on chris’s back is gone.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> howdy be my friend on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softiechannie) blease i'm lonely but fun i swear


End file.
